Survivor's Guilt
by IrethMalfoy
Summary: Hermione is going through her guilt of the death of Harry, Ron and most of the other Weasley's. oneshot


**Author's Note:** This was something that was just nagging at my brain the last few days. Ever have that? When you are eyeball deep in another story and another idea pops into your mind out of nowhere and just won't leave you alone until you've done something about it? Well this is it. Now I can work on Building Trust Changing Sides with a free mind. :)

* * *

The Anniversary is a week away. Just about a year had passed since Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, The Chosen One, The-Man-Who-Saved-Us, had vanquished He-Who-Must-Be-Named. However, the victory was bittersweet to those of us that had survived. That was what drove me from the house tonight. I had been living at the Burrow since the war ended. Death Eaters took my family so I had nowhere else to go. That, and, we felt the need to just be near one another. It was only Molly, Charlie, Fleur and George left out of all of us. Tears start as I think about everything that had happened.

The five of us, had moved into the Burrow after the war. Partly because we feared for Molly's sanity after loosing most of her children, but the real reason was so we wouldn't have to be alone.

It was hard to be in that house for me. At first it was a balm to my soul after all that had happened. Nevertheless, after things fell back into a semblance of normalcy life started to unravel for me. Every time I looked in their eyes they it seemed as though they silently screamed, 'you took them from us'. I just knew it was true. If I weren't a Mudblood they would have survived. The Weasley family would be whole. I knew that Molly wished it were me in St. Mungo's instead of Ginny.

I had to step outside into the frigid night air to get away from their silent accusations. I was going to do something drastic if I didn't get out. They didn't have to be a victim to my depression anymore tonight. I've put them all through enough pain without giving them more reason to hate me. I could hear Fleur trying to pacify her son, Billy, the only thing that they had left of Bill since….

Being alone my mind forced itself through its relentless trek through the past.

Percy was the first of the Weasley's to go. He never got around to calling a truce with everyone. He also took too long to figure out exactly which side of the war he supported. It was a shock to everyone to find out he had been a supporter of Voldemort. Apparently, Voldemort didn't think that Percy would have been a good and faithful Death Eater. Percy was killed shortly after his decision.

Then Bill was killed. He was ambushed by a few Death Eaters lead by none other than Severus Snape. Bill and the group of wizards he was with on Order business never saw it coming. I guess that is why they call it an ambush, but that's not the point, his death was quick. He probably faired the best out of all of the Weasleys.

Fred's time was in one of the later battles. He and George were together in the battle. They were always together, why should that particular time be any different? However, George was knocked unconscious, while Fred had no less than five Death Eaters attacking him. He put up a good fight. He killed three of them before he was overcome. The Ministry recognized him with Medals of Honor and a special funeral for his heroic fight. If George hadn't been knocked cold that battle could have turned out much differently.

Shortly after Fred's death, Ginny and I were kidnapped. We were tortured through every means Voldemort could fathom to give up information about Harry's weaknesses, Order members and plans. Voldemort himself would oversee these when he saw fit. When they weren't being tortured and questioned, we were raped. Death Eaters would line up to have a go. Not just the male ones either. I remember Bellatrix on a few occasions with broken broom handles and iron rods. We were there months before Harry and Ron finally found a way to save us. Unfortunately when we were free Ginny's mind was mush. To say it nicely, Neville Longbottom's parents were sane and perfectly functional citizens when put next to Ginny. We were both admitted to St. Mungo's and all Gin did was scream. At any sudden moments or sounds and Lord help you if you tried to touch her. It broke what was left of everyone's heart. Yet there I was, just recovering from the physical injuries and some of the mental ones but there was never any doubt that I would make a full recovery. And I was the Mudblood! It just wasn't fair.

Arthur's death was a shocker to them. It happened while Ginny and I were imprisoned. He was checking out some suspicious garbage can behavior around Stratford-Upon-Avon for the Ministry. It was supposed to be his everyday run of the mill prankster that was taking his opportunity while the world was focused on other things to really give a damned one way or the other about garbage cans. Well, the prank wasn't a prank but a trap and Arthur and his assistant went down before they had figured everything out.

Ron and Harry both went in at The End. Ron was first. He had just made Draco Malfoy eat his own teeth; Bellatrix Lestrange got him in the back with a Bone Crushing hex. He had just enough in him left to bring that bitch to justice before he too joined her in death.

Harry on the other hand, died to defeat Voldemort. I'm sure that he tired every other option before he went with the decision that he made. Logically speaking I think that in his own death was the only way that he could defeat Voldemort. They were bond by blood, death, life, souls, and magic. There was too much there to just say a few spells and have that be the end of it. It was something Harry had to workout for himself.

People didn't understand why Harry didn't save himself at The End. They don't have to. With most people it was either Black or White. They don't trouble themselves with the greys. I can think of a thousand reasons why Harry didn't save himself at the end. I can't say that I am okay with them, but I understand the _why_ of it all. Hell, that was how I feel now.

And where was I during that last battle? In St. Mungo's. I wanted nothing more to be out there with a wand in my hand making those bastards pay for what they had put me through, what they had put us all through. But I wasn't allowed. I was too fragile they said. I was too weak they said. I was only going to endanger myself even more they said. So I drove the staff nuts pacing and worrying and bitching as the days of The End were drug out. Finally, to get me out of their hair, they gave me the job of helping with the minor bumps, cuts, and bruises of war victims.

The sound of the Burrow's back door closing in the still night jarred me from my thoughts. I didn't bother to look back at who was going to intrude on my sorrow fest. I prayed that I was invisible so they would just leave me alone. I didn't have Harry's cloak so I prepared myself for the unwelcome appearance.

"What's wrong Hermione," it was Charlie, and he took up the ground next to me in the garden.

_Great_, I think. "Nothing, Char, nothing."

"You can tell me. I know it's coming up. Is that what's wrong?"

He didn't have to specify what 'it' was. It was obvious. "That is what's wrong."

"But that isn't all of it is it," he pressed on. I wanted to yell for him to just leave me alone. Instead I opted to stay silent.

I don't know how long we sat there looking at nothing. I almost forgot he was there until I started talking again and he shifted to look at me.

"I shouldn't be here. I should be where Ginny is. I should be the one in St. Mungo's. I'm the Mudblood. I know Molly holds some contempt for me. I see it when she looks at me when she thinks I'm not looking. She wishes that I were her daughter not just her youngest son's useless school friend. I see it in Fleur's eyes especially right after she tucks little Billy to bed at night. She wishes that it were me dead instead of her husband. Then when George gets home from working at the joke shop he looks at me the same way that Molly and Fleur look at me. He wishes that I were in the place of Fred. You do it too, as dinner ends you give me the look that just says that I'm the reason why your family is in shreds now. You are right, all of you are right. I should be the one in St. Mungo's I should be the one that is dead. I'm the Mudblood. I'm the reason for this bloody war. I'm the reason why they fought. If I had met Ron and Harry they would still be alive right now, they would all be alive right now. Ginny would still be sane. But no, it's just me. Just me, and it 's my fault." Somewhere in my monologue I had started the water works. Not just the boo-hoo's, but, the full on body shuddering runny nose and red face tears.

I guess I didn't know where in the monologue that Charlie had pulled me into a hug but that's where I was when I finished. And he didn't say anything. I wasn't surprised. After all I spoke the truth, and Charlie was never one to lie. He may withhold parts of the truth but when it is put out there like I had he wouldn't deny it. But he still held me and I cried and cried.

Eventually I calmed down and pulled out of his embrace. I was still crying but it had subsided to just minor leaking of the eyes. That's when Charlie chose to speak. "Hermione I know how you feel. There isn't a day that goes by where I wish that I could give my life just so little Billy could have a father again, or to have the Twins just be the Twins again, but this is how it is for all of us, the regret and the guilt that is never ending. It's part of the burden of surviving." He stopped for a moment. His voice sounded as if it would crack at any moment. After a minute or two he continued, voice steady, "Did it ever occur to you that those looks we give you are a reminder. A reminder that there was a reason for their sacrifice, we are proud of them every time we look at you. You helped give the cause something more on a personal level for us. You helped pick up the pieces when we were all at our lowest. You pulled us together. We look at you and we know that we couldn't ask for a better person to be part of this family. You are the root of it, just as much as any one of the ones we lost. Yes, we want them back, but when we look at you we are proud that we lost them for a cause that was worthwhile. We all love you irreplaceably."

He pulled me back into another embrace. This time it wasn't to comfort me but to convey what he couldn't through words. In a perfect world, that would have been enough for me to live the rest of my life happily ever after. But this wasn't a perfect world. Charlie's words stayed with me forever though. I understood what he was saying and I thanked him in little ways everyday for what he had given me.


End file.
